


Stop

by BansheeLydia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Future Fic, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scenting, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 17:05:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6713542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BansheeLydia/pseuds/BansheeLydia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles comes home to find Jackson doing laundry shirtless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stop

“You need to stop.”

Jackson finished folding a shirt, setting it on top of a neat pile of clothes before he looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Stop doing laundry?”

Stiles shook his head. “No, you butthead. You need to stop...just...” he struggled for words for a moment, finally just waving his hand in Jackson’s general direction. “Just stop.”

Now they were living together, it was hard enough on a daily basis to keep his hands off Jackson. Dragging himself out of bed (and away from Jackson and his clever hands) every morning was a kind of torture. Coming home from work to find Jackson doing laundry shirtless didn’t exactly help.

Jackson folded his arms. “Eloquent,” he said, tone dripping with smugness, the fucker.

Stiles flipped him off and kicked the door shut behind him, crossing the room. Jackson smirked, but Stiles quickly wiped that off his face with a hard kiss, gripping the waistband of his boyfriend’s jeans to pull him closer. 

Jackson smiled into the kiss, wordlessly reaching behind Stiles to switch off the iron and set it aside, out of the way. His hands moved to cup Stiles’ face, taking control of the kiss, slow and deep and toe-curlingly good. Stiles lifted his own hands, letting his fingertips slide up Jackson’s abdomen and chest, feeling hard muscle under his hands. He let one thumb brush over a nipple, then pinched lightly, grinning when Jackson’s breath hitched and his hips stuttered forward slightly.

“Fucker,” he grunted, nipping at Stiles’ bottom lip.

Stiles pulled away, ran his tongue over where his bitten lip ached. He glanced at the counter behind him and then at the meticulously neat pile of laundry on it; with one quick swipe of his arm, the pile was scattered on the floor.

“C’mon,” he said. “Make me come, right here.”

Jackson looked down at the laundry. “I just ironed those.”

Stiles dragged him closer again, distracting him with a kiss. When Jackson’s gaze started to wander back to the clothes again, Stiles gripped his chin firmly, peppering slow kisses to his mouth until Jackson pressed forward against him, hips giving a slow, deliberate roll that had Stiles shivering slightly.

Strong hands gripped Stiles’ thighs and Jackson lifted him up, seating him on the counter. His next kiss lingered before he pulled back, hands going to his jeans. Stiles tugged off his own shirt, struggling with his pants before Jackson gave an impatient huff and helped him out of them.

“Your mouth,” Stiles breathed, locking his feet around Jackson’s calves, keeping their bodies pressed together. “I want your mouth.”

Jackson gave a pleased rumble against Stiles’ throat, pressing a sweet kiss against his pulse point before moving down, nose and lips skimming over Stiles’ skin until, finally, he was where Stiles wanted him most. His toes curled at the sensation of hot, slightly damp lips against his cock; he slid a hand into Jackson’s hair, gripping firmly, relishing the quiet whimper Jackson gave in response, the way his boyfriend’s body completely relaxed at the touch.

The first time Jackson sucked him off, it hadn’t been great; too wet, too sloppy. But when Jackson wanted to do well at something, when he was determined to be the best, he threw everything he had into it, and he improved. A lot. So when Jackson started blowing him in earnest, using his mouth and hands to get Stiles off, Stiles groaned, trying not to buck up into Jackson’s mouth.

“So good, Jax,” he breathed, voice splitting on a moan, “So fucking good for me.”

Jackson moaned around him and his rhythm faltered for a second as he started stroking himself. Stiles tried to hold back, to draw out the perfect, hot pleasure, but his orgasm crashed through him, a breathless moan stuttering out of him. 

Jackson swallowed and pulled off; seconds later, Stiles heard Jackson’s quiet grunt, felt hot come splash onto his stomach. He opened his eyes, taking in Jackson’s blissed expression, and smiled, pulling him into a gentle kiss. He gently wiped come away from his chin with his thumb, sighing softly as Jackson nosed his way down to his throat, nuzzling there.

“You’re picking up those clothes,” he muttered, breathing in Stiles’ scent.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles smiled. “Cuddle me, jerkface.”

**Author's Note:**

> allirica.tumblr.com - feel free to send a prompt or come say hi :)


End file.
